The Frontier
by DreadCraft
Summary: The standards of Harry's wizarding world hardly applied to the wild frontier that is the United States of America. While Voldemort terrorized the old world, the hardy denizens of the new conducted magic their own dark and gritty way...


**The Frontier: A Harry Potter-based Fanfiction**

**Preface: Although most of the established wizarding world is torn asunder by Voldemort's reign of terror, one unspoiled bastion still remains. It is a frontier for magic that is unrecognizable in contrast to the cobblestone streets and towering castles of the old world. Law is dispensed by anyone with the will to see justice done. Only the strong and cunning thrive in the rustic, half-mundane place that is… The United States of America.**

Felix Graves held an office unacknowledged on any piece of paper. As Undersecretary for Paranormal Affairs, his office fell under the joint purview of both the Department of Defense and the Department of Energy. He was expected to be the bridge between modern magic-using witches and warlocks. The tried-and-true modus operandi of the US wizarding world was to simply blend in with their muggle counterparts. Wizard families lived the American dream alongside their muggle neighbors. Your portfolio manager at JP Morgan could very well possess an 'outstanding' NEWT rating in arithmancy rather than a finance degree.

So too would there me magic-inclined public defenders seeded within the justice system. Felix's marshals, or aurors as they would be known elsewhere, were his greatest means to maintaining peace in his little magicking frontier. He had heard reports about the carnage left in the wake of the dark wizard Voldemort's return across the sea. However, Felix was reasonably sure that the Dark Lord had no belly for a fight here in this rough and tumble land.

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Zachariah Case, or the Inquisitor as some of his foes called him, was a cynical mudblood bastard. He was a good ole fella' hailing from the 'lone star state' who, up until college, hadn't even believed in magic. His best friend since childhood, an oddball named Terry Morentz, was into all that new age wiccan shit. At least that was what Zach thought at the time. So he followed Terry to one of his 'quidditch' club meetings. Seeing real magic being done in front of his eyes, his friend's oddball behavior suddenly made sense. From then on, Zach was hooked on magic. Terry's 'club meetings' were, in reality, college-level wizarding classes. They studied everything from charms and curses to herbology and arithmancy. Terry was happy to find out his muggle friend had an uncommonly strong affinity for magic.

Zach was especially gifted in legilimency. With his talent, he was a force to be reckoned with within the Marshals Service. Not yet thirty years of age, Zach was the 95th federal judicial district's chief marshal. Only 94 districts were known to exist. The 95th dealt with witches and warlocks. As of now, Zach and two of his deputies were hunting down a suspected murderer and child molester. Magic or muggle, it seemed human nature stayed the same. Some people were just born to the wrong.

This area, Zach's backyard just outside of Austin, Texas, had reported a sharp increase in missing children. The local authorities were baffled. When Zach and his crew arrived, they immediately detected the traces of strong magic use. Now, they had the source isolated to one desolate shack just outside the city in its boonies. From all sides, Zach and his deputies kicked down the doors to the shack and entered like a Kansas tornado.

"Freeze! Hands on your head, motherfucker!" Zach yelled out. The greasy slimeball seemed to be prepared, however. The perp' was a brackish looking man of forty or fifty years. The unappealing stubble on his face and soiled beanie was the epitome of cliché. The man disappeared in a flash.

"Portkey. Follow." Zach directed his men. "_Alas veritum_" he and his men whispered. Instantly, they were transported to a swampy locale. "Looks like the everglades, boys. This loser's been around. Fan out and look for 'em."

Out of instinct, Zach realized the location was near a river wide enough to travel by the fan boats the locals loved to use. Quickly he raced up the bank until he found what he was looking for. The perp' was readying a fan boat tied to a dilapidated pier. The perp spotted Zach and could be seen pulling a wand out. The colored trails of curses began spewing forth from the creep.

The roar of the fan boat sounded as it was brought to life. Needed to disable the perp's escape route, Zach readied both his wand and his enchanted revolver. The modified Colt .45 shot forth streams of projectiles and if it were an automatic machine gun. The solid rounds impacted the fan boat as the perp' cowered inside. The revolver did its job however. Zach focused his fire on the engine of the craft and riddled it full of holes. Soon, the engine could be heard dying.

Knowing full well what awaited him, the perp' got out of his boat and ran as if his life depended on it – which it did. The sick freak was no match for Zach in a footrace. The veteran marshal played cornerback for his alma mater at Texas A&M. The marshal caught up and tackled the man to the ground. They rolled around for a short while until Zach had gotten the advantage, pinning the man to the ground. Three quick blows to the face stunned the perp' as his nose ran red and slick with blood and his face looked like hamburger. Zach grabbed the man by the neck and wrung him harshly, employing legilimecy as he went. The physical mistreatment broke the collar's will and getting inside his head was easy. The confirmation was there. His thoughts were flooded with the sobbing of children, mostly little girls, and the sick thrill emanating from the perp's own psyche.

Zach's deputies had caught up with him by then and they pinned the man down and Zach prepared to do the final part of the mission. "_Lumis _cirsa" he said as a bright glow sprang from his wand. The beam of light ended about six inches from his wand. Taking the glowing implement, he dug the beam of light into the perp's neck and gave a quick slicing motion. The man's head came off expressionless, for Zach's mental assault had already rendered the man dumb. There was a saying in Texas. It was especially applicable in the wizarding world since the US didn't have any fancy dementors 'n all that. "_More men need killin' than horses need stealin'_".

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A/N Poll

This is just a taste of a more detailed American wizarding world. I want to know how many think I should expand upon this? Include a yay or nay vote in your reviews.


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